


It's More Like a Taijitu

by bones96



Category: Psych
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Blood Kink (discussed), Don't Read This, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, I didn't even edit this before moving it here, Oral Sex, Period sex (discussed), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, This is Bad, This ship needs a PWP but this is not the one it deserved, Threesomes (discussed), it's just here for posterity, it's so bad it can't be fixed, please, sexual fantasies, this is really bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 20:09:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15915378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bones96/pseuds/bones96
Summary: She could imagine what they looked like, and it wasn't some stupid number.Originally posted to Fanfiction.net in 2014.





	It's More Like a Taijitu

**Author's Note:**

> Didn't you read the tags? This might be the worst thing I have ever published. You have been warned.

Most people called this a sixty-nine, due to the shape it made. It wasn't the right term for them, though. Yang could imagine what they really looked like as she lay back and hugged her knees up to Mary's shoulders. She could imagine what they looked like, and it wasn't some stupid number.

Yang shook her hair out of her face. Black curls flurried out and settled over the backs of her lover's thighs as she took him, carefully, into her mouth. Mary inhaled sharply at the sensation, making Yang giggle around his head. This was about as loud as he would get before orgasm; until then, she would savor whatever expression of pleasure she could get out of him.

Despite his silence, Mary was happy. He liked planting kisses down her thigh. He liked spreading apart her lips and exploring what hid behind them, because he was a giver. As infrequently as he'd ever had anyone like this in his life, he was so grateful for her company that all he wanted to do was please her. He had noticed that Yang was also far more interested in giving than getting, although he assumed hers was a different reason. Psychologically speaking, it probably stemmed from a feeling of subservience that had been nurtured from childhood by her father . . .

That thought never failed to make sex supremely uncomfortable for Mary. The simple point was, this position was the perfect arrangement for them. Both of them felt needed; both of them felt satisfied. The only way it could have been better, he thought, was if Yang were menstruating.

Mary was fascinated – yes, _fascinated –_ by blood, and in the past, he'd found that her juices tasted sweetest when they were dark red rather than clear. Yang did not share the fetish, but she loved him and thus indulged in it with him once a month or so. And she had to admit that they'd had some of their best sex when she was on her period, thanks to Mary's heightened enthusiasm and the reminder that, despite their slight age difference, she was not yet a menopausal old woman.

But she was glad that Aunt Flo wasn't there right now. If she were to get blood all over Mary's white undershirt, it would ruin the perfect image they were making together.

Lifting her head to reach his cock was starting to cramp Yang's neck. She didn't mind. In fact, it was necessary: if she were just lying flat on her back, then where would the S-like curve come from? To ease her burden just a little bit, she pressed her palms against Mary's back and pulled him in closer. This elicited another inaudible shudder from Mary as he felt the texture of her black lace bra rubbing against his stomach and the warmth of her tongue circling the base of his penis.

Nothing could compare, though, to hearing Yang's cry when he successfully located her clit. Stimulating it upside-down was quite a task, but say what one might about Mary, the man had a good tongue and with it, he managed. He licked at that most sensitive spot with firm and rhythmic thrusts. Yang could only moan muffled expletives and dig her fingernails into Mary's back to show her approval.

As Mary drove her towards the edge, Yang absentmindedly moved her lips up and down his cock (smearing it with her purple lipstick in the process), closed her eyes, and fantasized. There was only one way this could have been better: what if Shawn were there with them?

Obviously, she and Shawn could never be together. Their relationship was too sacred; just to picture it would be offensive. Shawn with _Mary,_ on the other hand, was something she would love to see. The man she loved, eating her like he was right now, but turned around so she could watch as the man they both admired fucked him from behind. Yang could imagine the look of bliss that Mary would wear as he pleased them both – yes, she knew he would enjoy it. Although he claimed otherwise, the _thing_ most people assumed about him was half-true. And if he were ever to indulge that side of himself, it would absolutely be with a charming devil like Shawn.

But why was Yang thinking about that _now_? This was about her and Mary – adding a third person to the mix would throw them off balance.

She was so close to coming that her mind was going delirious.

Mary took her clit between his teeth and started to suck. That turned out to be enough; he felt her drop him from her mouth and heard her moans condense into two strained syllables – "Oh, _fuck." –_ and he could tell that she was climaxing. Yang's orgasms were, as she had once so concisely put it, silent and violent. The involuntary muscle contractions made her body thrash around so wildly that she didn't even have the energy to cry out her lover's name. It was why Mary had to be on top – someone had to hold her down, or else she would throw herself off the bed. Feeling a sudden rush of adrenaline, Mary lifted his head and grabbed her ankles to rein in her kicking legs, twisting one hand back to rub her wet slit and help her ride it out.

She announced her descent by finally vocalizing the pleasure with a scream. She lowered her legs, and Mary let out a gasp. His heart was racing; he hadn't exactly expected her to come first.

He didn't expect her to push him off her and flip him onto his back, either. But that she did, straddling his shoulders so the shape they made was the same but in reverse. Yang wanted them to be balanced, and in order for that to happen, Mary needed an orgasm as intense as hers had been. She grabbed the base of his cock and pushed her throat as far down the shaft as it could go – which was a lot farther now that the angle was more comfortable. She bobbed her head rapidly up and down, and soon, Mary lost control, coming in her mouth with an undignified grunt. Yang caught and swallowed almost all of his cum, but she pulled away a second too early, causing the last stray bit of semen to lodge itself in her hair.

Yang took a deep breath and pushed herself up. She took a long moment to let herself come back down to Earth, feeling her own heartbeat and smiling contentedly. At last, she swung her legs around and let herself look, finally, at her partner's face. He was bright red from exhaustion and his eyes were clenched shut, but he still had the soft and boyish face she adored.

She kissed him gently on his swollen lips. "Wake up, baby," she whispered, stroking the blond hair that stuck to his forehead with the back of her hand.

Mary opened his eyes and looked up at Yang woozily. She helped him adjust his glasses, which had been knocked crooked when she flipped him over. Then he noticed the rogue splotch of cum and he grimaced. "I got it in your hair," he murmured. "Sorry."

"Oh, it's _nothing,_ " she said.

But it wasn't just _nothing._ Mary continued to stare at it, noting how shockingly white it was against her dark, dark hair. Yang watched him ponder and realized what he was seeing. Suddenly, she found herself cursing the fact that she _hadn't_ been bleeding just a little bit.

"Stay there," she urged before crawling around him to the place where she'd discarded her clothing. She looked through her pockets and found her purple lipstick, making sure to reapply it fully before returning to Mary and giving him a big smooch on the top of the head. The mark she left seemed especially bold and dark against his pale yellow hair. It wasn't exactly black and white, but it was close.

"There. Now we're even," she said.

Mary touched the spot where she'd kissed him, looked at his fingers, and smiled in understanding. He hadn't quite recovered yet, but he fought past his racing heartbeat and his ragged breathing to sit up. "I love you so much," he said before planting another kiss upon her lips.

Both of them were surprised to taste themselves on the other's tongue. But they savored it, letting the two tastes mingle until they had created something new and wonderful and perfect.

"That wasn't such a bad idea, was it?" said Yang as they broke apart.

"No, no, it was spectacular," said Mary, once again gasping for air. He nestled his head against Yang's shoulder and loosely took hold of her hand. "Although I can't help but think . . . "

"What?"

"I can't help but think that 'sixty-nine' isn't the right name for it."

Yang smiled. "And why's that?"

Mary turned his head to look at her with his brow crinkled pensively. "It reminds me more of a _taijitu."_

Yang probably would have said "yin-yang" instead. But hearing him say it still made her love him even more. "That's exactly what I was thinking," she said, and they held each other closer.


End file.
